MORNING

1 a: dawn b: the time from sunrise to noon c: the time from midnight to noon

I have the great fortune to have married a wonderful man. He loves me, he loves our daughters, we share many interests and enjoy each others company. While I could go on and on about his wonderful traits, you'll have to take my word for it if you don't know him because this post is about one of his few faults. Namely, he is a Morning Person.

We have been married for over twelve years, so it's not like I just learned this about him. However, the last three weekday mornings have made it a bit more glaringly obvious. We are having a new roof put on our house (not the most exciting $10,000 we've ever spent, but necessary nonetheless) and dear J wanted us up, showered and dressed before the roofers ever arrived. Sound OK? Until I tell you that they arrived at dawn! Yes, literally at daybreak. Now, while J goes from completely asleep to completely awake in 2.5 seconds flat, it takes me a bit longer. To say that this is annoying doesn't quite capture the behavior. He doesn't just wake up. He talks. He expects responses from me. He sings. He whistles - whistles! - before 7:00 in the morning. This is just not acceptable behavior.

Sure, I will talk to you in the mornings. Preferably after a shower, a cup of coffee or tea and even then only in one word answers. I'd prefer to just coast through the first hour of the day with no verbal communication at all. Instead, I have two daughters who treat mornings much like dear old dad. They wake up with the sun, read for a large chunk of time before ever letting us know they are awake, grab a snack, hang out and are ready to talk the minute I walk down the stairs.

You might have noticed that I said "two daughters" above. Yes, dear B is a bit more like me when it comes to mornings. Today, I came downstairs to find A & K sitting on the sofa, dreaming aloud about recipes in Betty Crocker's Best Christmas Cookbook, while B was still asleep. Not only was she asleep, she was curled on her side, cuddled under her blankets, blissfully unaware that school was less than an hour away. I wanted to whisper to her, "Never marry a morning person." Instead, I looked at my beautiful daughter, who wouldn't be who she is without the wonderful dad she has, and I kissed her softly to wake her up. Maybe mornings aren't all bad.